


Is Today the Day I Die?

by coldflashwavebaby



Series: Flashwave Week 2017 [3]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Also Leonard Snart is dead, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Barry Allen is Buffy, Depression, Flashwave Week 2k17, I have a whole AU planned around this, Leonard Snart is Angel, M/M, Mick Rory is Spike, Pre-Coldflashwave, Suicidal Thoughts, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 21:23:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldflashwavebaby/pseuds/coldflashwavebaby
Summary: Flashwave Week Day Three: First KissMick Rory was a vampire that Len sired over three hundred years before Barry was Called. He and the Snart siblings terrorized Europe and Asia for centuries. Over those years, Len and Rory’s relationship grew past just partners, until Len killed the wrong person and ended up cursed with a soul and left him behind.Now, he wanted revenge.





	

* * *

            Being the Slayer wasn’t as glamorous as it sounds. Sure, there’s super-strength, sense, agility, speed. There’s the privilege of getting a peek into the world of the supernatural. But, along with all of that, there was pain. Not just for Barry, but for anyone he cared about as well.

            Caitlin found out she was a witch and nearly destroyed the world when her abilities took her over.

            Cisco’s brother was murdered by a vampire that wanted revenge for him helping the Slayer.

            Dr. Wells, his watcher, was fired from the Watcher’s Council and replaced by a man named Jay Garrick.

            Barry himself was forced to put a sword through the man he loved.

           

            No matter how many times Iris or Joe or Wells or any of the others tried to convince him otherwise—tried to tell him that Len would have wanted Barry to kill him; tried to convince him it wasn’t really Len anymore, the snarky yet helpful vampire cursed with a soul that loved him; that it was Leonard, soulless vampire mass murderer, who would’ve killed him without a second thought—Barry still felt the weight of what he’d done on his heart.

            So, he isolated himself. He went to school, came home, maybe ate dinner if Joe pushed it on him. Then, he went on patrol alone. Before, he would go by the school, talk with Cisco and Caitlin, get some advice from his watcher. They were avoiding him now, though, which was fine by him. They were better off without the poison of his life. Everyone was, really.

            He strode through the Central City Cemetery, eyes peeled for any sign of fresh vamps, fighting to keep his mind away from the pleading look in Len’s eyes—because in those last few seconds, he _was_ Len; he saw it—before he plunged the sword through him.

            A scream broke him from his thoughts.

Finally.

He ran towards the sound, where a young couple were being attacked by a vamp. He drew his stake from his back pocket and whistled. The vampire turned away from the couple, who used its distraction to run.

“Slayer.” The vamp hissed through his fangs. “I was wondering how long it would take to find you.”

“Well,” Barry shrugged, “here I am.”

The vampire lunged at him, but Barry was ready. He sidestepped the attack, using the vampire’s own momentum to knock it to the ground. The vampire rolled back to his feet, murder in his eyes. “There’s a pretty bounty out for your head.”

“Oh, really?” Barry blocked the punch the vampire sent his way, then another. “And why is that?”

The vampire chuckled darkly. “You murdered Leonard Snart.”

Hearing someone say his name after so many weeks threw him off balance, leaving him open for the vampire to kick him directly in the stomach. Barry fell backwards, the stake falling from his hand.

“Apparently, you really pissed someone off doing that.” The vampire crouched over him, face vamped up and ready to rip out his throat. He dragged a finger down Barry’s cheek, making him shutter. “I could use that money. Too bad—you’d make a pretty vamp.”

Barry’s fingers twitched. “Too bad I can’t say the same about you.” Before the vamp could stop him, Barry snatched up his stake and stabbed him in the heart.

Ugh, he hated dusting vamps when they were standing over him. He coughed and spit out the ashes as he pulled himself to his feet. A bounty on him? There were plenty of things that hated him—vampires, demons, maybe even the Watcher’s Council. But who would want him dead for killing Len?

Lisa was the first person to pop in his head. After all, Len was her brother. Even without a soul, she loved him more than anything in existence. But Lisa had started hanging around Cisco more and more, and never gave any sign that she blamed Barry for his death. Sure, she was upset and a bit frigid around him, but that was to be expected. She’d wanted them to find another way—damn, _Barry_ wanted to find another way—but in the end, it was Len or the world. She knew that, even as she grieved her brother. 

The only person Barry could think of past her that would care enough about Len to kill him was…

He closed his eyes with a sigh. Mick Rory.

Mick Rory was a vampire that Len sired over three hundred years before Barry was Called. He and the Snart siblings terrorized Europe and Asia for centuries. Over those years, Len and Rory’s relationship grew past just partners, until Len killed the wrong person and ended up cursed with a soul and left him behind. Without Len, Rory became one of the deadliest vampires out there, boasting the death of two slayers.

Barry met Rory last year, when the vampire came to try and make him the third. With Len’s help, he defeated him, but the vampire swore he’d come back for revenge on both of them. Despite that, Barry knew that Len and Rory still loved each other, deep down.

Now, he wanted revenge.

Barry rubbed his hands down his face. Any other time, he’d ignore the bounty until it became an outright problem, but Rory knew about his friends and family. Eventually, his impatience would get the best of him, and he’d try to take out one of them for his revenge instead. Barry headed back into town, stake stashed back in his pocket. Saints & Sinners was the place to go if you were looking for information on a demon or vamp, so that’s where he headed for.

What would he do when he found Rory? He’d already proven that he was strong enough to take him down, even with Slayer strength. Rory had already taken down two Slayers, so he probably wouldn’t be fooled by the usual technics that Barry used. For a second, the thought crossed Barry’s mind to just let Rory kill him. Didn’t he deserve it? He’d killed Len, hurt Cisco, almost destroyed Caitlin, ruined Wells’ life. Wouldn’t they all be better off without the Slayer weighing them down?

Cisco almost said as much after Dante’s death. Yeah, he’d apologized for it a few days later, but weren’t they all thinking it? His life expectancy wasn’t that long anyway—the last Slayer, Oliver, was one of the longest lasting Slayers, with eight years under his belt before the Demon, Ra’s al Ghul, killed him.

 Barry maybe had, what, three or four years left? If that? Someone was going to get the better of him, eventually. If it was Rory paying him back for Len, that would sit alright by him.

Could he push this job onto someone else, though? If he died, someone else would take his place and get Called. Could he let them suffer through this life?

He was so lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even realize he was being watched until a hand grabbed him from behind and dragged him back into a nearby alleyway. Suddenly, Barry’s face was shoved into the brick with enough force that, if he hadn’t been the Slayer, might have killed him.

“Hey, Doll.”

            “Rory.” Barry growled, using his body weight to push the vampire off. When he turned, Mick Rory was eyeing him with hunger and bloodlust. “Come to get your ass kicked again?”

            “Come to avenge Lenny.” The vampire swung at Barry, but his Slayer instincts kicked in, and he ducked out of the way, using his position to kick Rory’s legs out from underneath him. He tumbled to the ground, but he used his momentum to roll to a crouch.

            “Len begged me to kill him.” Barry snarled, drawing a stake from the back of his pants. “He was literally going to unleash Hell. I had no choice. I loved him.”

            “Liar!” Rory roared, charging straight at Barry’s middle, knocking him to the concrete. He brought his fist down on Barry’s face, splitting his lip. “If you did, you would have found another way!”

            Barry wrapped his legs around the vampire’s waist and threw his body weight up, rolling them so Rory was the one with his back to the ground. Barry held his stake up menacingly. “There was no other way! I searched for months, but he was a lost cause!” He screamed through gritted teeth.

            Quicker than Barry could react, Mick practically jumped to his feet, Barry still wrapped around him, and slammed the Slayer against the alley wall. Barry moved to bring his stake down, but Mick grabbed both of his wrists and pinned them beside his head. He laughed dryly as Barry struggled against the hold.

            “Now what, Slayer?” He asked, pushing so close, it hurt. “What’s stopping me from doing what Lenny should’ve done a long time ago—draining you here and now? It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done it to a Slayer.”

            A few months ago, Barry would’ve been terrified. His eyes would’ve been darting this way and that, trying to find some way to escape, to break free. Now, though…he just stared at Rory. The vampire’s eyes were burning into him, full of rage and passion. It sent a shiver up Barry’s spine. It was…thrilling.

            For the past two months, ever since he ran a sword through Len, he’d felt nothing. Everything was numb and pointless, a recycled battle of good vs evil that he couldn’t find it in himself to care about. Here, though, with Rory pressing him against the wall, everything was intensified.

            The pain radiating through his shoulders where he’d collided with the brick was amazing. The bruise on his face, the cut on his lip. He was feeling more in this fight right now than he had since he stabbed the man he loved with a sword. He wanted more.

            He just wanted to feel.

            Rory probably wasn’t expecting Barry to lunge forward and kiss him. No, the questioning sound that slipped out made it clear that it hadn’t even crossed his mind. When Barry’s lips started moving, though, the thought seemed to grow on him. He kissed back harshly, almost attacking Barry’s mouth, making the cut on his lip bleed and licking the blood up before going back in for more.

            Barry moaned deeply, his legs tightening around Mick’s waist. This…he could feel this. It didn’t matter that it was Mick Rory. It didn’t matter that they’d just been trying to kill each other. All of those thoughts drifted away, and Barry could feel again. He pulled his lips away when breathing got hard, his chest heaving, and watched Mick with half-lidded eyes.

            The vampire stared back, glaring with lust and fire. He viciously jerked Barry’s arms higher, so they were pinned above his head, and the Slayer shivered.

            “You’re just a whore for any vampire, ain’t ya, doll?” He chuckled darkly, moving his mouth to Barry’s throat. He felt the scrape of Mick’s fangs against his skin and gasped. “I could rip your throat open right now, and you’d just let me, wouldn’t you?”

            Barry snarled at that, pulling his arms to free them, but Mick—when had he started calling him Mick? —pushed harder against him, grinding his arousal against Barry’s ass. Barry groaned, throwing his head so Mick could attack his neck more. Letting a vampire so close to his jugular probably wasn’t the smartest decision—after all, Mick still wanted him dead—but Barry didn’t care. If he were to die now, he would be okay with it. As long as Mick continued thrusting his hips up like that, kept licking and nipping his neck like that.

            Absently, he heard a clunk when his stake slipped from his fingers. grinding up on him brought him back to his bliss, though.

            Mick growled. “God, you want this so bad, don’t you? It hasn’t even been three months yet, and here you are, moan and writhing against me, desperate for my cock in you.”

             Barry could hear himself groaning and whining, the words sending as much pleasure as Mick grinding up on him.

            “Mick…” He whimpered, not caring how pathetic he made himself look. Not caring that everything Mick was saying, he was thinking.  

             “You killed him.” The vampire rumbled, moving one of his hands down to squeeze him through his jeans, and _god, it’d been so long since someone had touched him_. “And here you are, so torn up about it, you’re fucking his best friend in a dirty alley.” The other hand slipped from Barry’s wrist and down his side, and Barry found himself arching up into the touch. “You’re just a filthy slut.”

            Then, the hand playing with him pulled down his zipper and wound its way into his pants. Barry choked out a moan when it gripped him hard.

            _Just a bit more…_

            Barry grabbed at the brick around him, trying to use it as leverage to get more friction from Mick’s hand. God, it’d been so long. And when Mick’s mouth moved from his neck up to his ear, nibbling the lobe…

            It was almost too much.

            “What…” Barry gasped when one hand grabbed his ass and kneaded the muscle. “What…about you, Rory?” 

            The vampire tensed, pulling his head away, but Barry grabbed his shoulders and pulled him so his lips were against Mick’s ear. “You care so much about Len and avenging him, yet here you are—fucking his killer against a wall. If I’m a slut and a whore, what does that make you?”

            Suddenly, he was dropped to his feet and spun around. Mick pushed him hard against the wall, a cruel reflection of how this whole encounter started. It almost broke Barry out of whatever spell had fallen over them, but then the vampire’s hand stroked slowly down him, and he moaned deeply.

_Yes…yes…YES…_

            Mick’s body pressed hard into his back, his hips thrusting against his clothed backside and lips sucking against the skin on the back of his neck. Barry gasped at the overwhelming sensation. He shifted back and forth, into Mick’s hand, then against Mick’s cock. God, he couldn’t help it. If he closed his eyes, he still couldn’t imagine this was Len—Len was measured and teasing with every movement. This was wild and attacking, like a fight neither could win. It was angry, primal, but maybe that’s what Barry needed.

            “God, Slayer…” Mick moaned. His voice was so wrecked, it almost made Barry come right there. He was nearly laying on Barry now, thrusting hard and fast against him, and he knew the vampire was as close as he was. “Fuck…”

The lips on his neck moved over his pulse point, and suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his neck. It was enough to push him over the edge. He came hard into Mick’s hand.

He rested his head against the cold brick in front of him, basking in the weightlessness of his orgasm. That moment…it was the most serene and happy he’d felt in two months. It was nice, like the high of a drug.

Then, all of Barry’s rational thoughts rushed back to him, hitting him like a school bus. Shame washed over him as he remembered what he’d just done… _who_ he’d just done.

            Mick was a killer. He’d killed two slayers already. He wasn’t like Len—he didn’t have a soul. Before he could let his other brain run his rationality away again, he brought his elbow back into Mick’s gut. The vampire wasn’t expecting it, which gave Barry enough time to turn and, using all of his slayer strength, punch him in the face. Mick flew back to the other wall of the alley, his face cradled in his hands, and Barry took the opportunity to zip himself up and run.

            He snuck into his window at Joe’s and went immediately to the bathroom to shower. He felt dirty and tainted. He scrubbed at his skin until it was raw, but he could still feel Mick touching him. He dried off quickly and threw on a pair of boxers before falling into bed.

It couldn’t happen again. He’d deal with the bounty on his head and whatever just happened with him and Mick later. For now, he pushed all thoughts of vampires out of his head and forced himself to close his eyes.

Not surprisingly, he didn’t find peace for the rest of the night.


End file.
